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go?” Louisa asked.
    “Very well. Isabelle sold quite a few paintings.”
    An expert at suppressing her anger at her husband’s behavior, Louisa cast a critical eye over Julie’s living room. Julie knew her mother considered her apartment unsuitable for the daughter of successful real estate developer and politician Joseph Hoffmann. Louisa let out a gloomy sigh. Julie was all too familiar with her mother’s expressions by now. Under the constant pressure of her mother’s overwhelming expectations, Julie often felt like retreating to her bed and hiding under the blankets.
    “Would you like some coffee, or anything else?” asked Julie, looking longingly toward her bedroom.
    “No, thank you,” replied Louisa coolly as she settled regally on the sofa and positioned her overpriced handbag on her lap. She looked soberly at her daughter. “Julietta.”
    Julie detected the note of concern in her voice.
    “How many times have I told you that you shouldn’t be wasting your time waiting on tables? Your father and I don’t think it’s right.”
    “I know. But I’m old enough to stand on my own two feet.”
    “You could make better use of your time if you devoted yourself to your studies,” insisted Louisa.
    Julie’s heart sank. The fact that she had kept her decision to drop out of law school from her parents weighed on her conscience. But she simply hadn’t been able to bring herself to talk to them about her future, in part because she could never find the right way to get her point of view across to them. She could hardly tell her parents that she had given up her law degree because devoting her life to the minutiae of legal briefs didn’t make her happy. They would never consider that a valid reason. In the Hoffmann world, personal happiness was not high on the list of priorities. What counted was the professional prestige that came from results and success. Since Julie had no idea what she wanted to do, she was more afraid of that conversation than she was of a white lie.
    She avoided responding directly. “Do you realize how many students work a bit on the side?” she said as she sank down onto the sofa.
    “But those students aren’t my daughter,” replied Louisa brusquely.
    At this well-worn statement, Julie took a deep breath. It was time to get to the point. “What can I do for you?” she asked with exaggerated affability.
    “I’ve decided to sell a few collector’s items from the villa.” Louisa assumed a bored expression. “I’m tired of looking at them.”
    “And what’s that got to do with me?” asked Julie, trying to ignore her sense of foreboding.
    “I’ve hired an agency to create a catalogue. A photographer will be taking pictures of each item, and I’d like you to oversee his work. After all, we’re talking about valuable objects, and I don’t trust a stranger with them.”
    “But I’ve got to work.”
    Julie leapt to find an excuse, but her mother smiled knowingly.
    “I happen to know that you’ve got the rest of the week off.”
    Julie made an anguished face. “Do I have to?”
    “As you know, your sister has other commitments. And since you seem to be neglecting your studies these days anyway, you would be doing me a great favor.”
    “I’d actually planned to spend some time with my favorite nephew. I’ve hardly seen Luke since he started school.”
    “Well, then I suggest you spend less time on work and visit him in the afternoon after school,” said Louisa. “And while we’re on the subject of family matters, will you be bringing a date to your father’s birthday party next week?”
    Wonderful. Another subject that Julie was absolutely dying to discuss with her mother just then.
    Louisa clicked her tongue dismissively at Julie’s stubborn silence. “I’ve been planning this party for weeks, and that includes a seating plan. After all, a number of distinguished guests will be coming.”
    “I can’t really think of anyone,” Julie said